An Orphan Christmas
by A. Tenmeadows
Summary: AU. Same universe as "Chocolate", but can stand alone. Call him a softie, but Tony "Tiger" Sawicki loves spending the holiday season with his Orphan family. Clone Club featuring Kira and Mrs. S, 1-shot. Dedicated to rachelsmanning on Tumblr. Rated T for language.


**Just a short "Chocolate" 'verse piece. Takes place the Christmas before 'Call It A Split'.**

**To those who haven't read "Chocolate", the members of The Orphans use codenames with everyone except each other to protect their identities.**

**Tony "Tiger" Sawicki is the group's leader, Delphine "Frenchie" Cormier is their grifter, Cosima "Rhesus" Niehaus is their hacker, Sarah "Limey" Manning is the brain who plans their heists, and Alison "Tippler" Hendrix is their surveillance guru.**

_**Orphan Black **_**belongs to John Fawcett and Graeme Manson (who should totally write a Tony Sawicki spin-off so that we can all drool over him).**

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><p><strong>December 25, 2011 - Toronto, Canada<strong>

I use my free hand to ring the bell on Mrs. S's doorframe. It's cold as fuck and I'm holding a mountain of presents and I'm fucking _praying_ she doesn't ask me what happened to my face.

Mrs. S has a rule about The Orphans and holidays: no business on Christmas.

I mean, technically, I didn't break her fucking rule; a guy on the bus got in my face when I used the seat next to me for the two big shopping bags I had with me. Motherfucker called me a _shemale_.

I fucking lost it. Guy got a few good hits in, but he probably won't be using his right hand for anything important any time soon.

The left side of my face still hurts like a bitch, though. I got a nice shiner, a split lip, and a killer headache, but I figure I can tough it out until we get back to the loft. I'm sure Rhesus's got some good shit that'll make it so I don't feel anything but hungry.

Rules or not, the important thing is I'm here now and I can't wait to spend this god-awful day arguing with Tippler over whether or not we watch the parade on television, letting Rhesus and Frenchie braid my hair, and having Mrs. S fuss about how thin I look and how I'm a growing boy.

Call me fucking soft.

But my favorite fucking part of Christmas comes right to the door.

"Uncle Tony!" Kira Manning rushes to hug me around my waist, and I barely have time to lift the bags in my arms out of her way. Limey holds the door open for me so that I can waddle into the living room without Kira detaching from my legs.

I set the heavy brown sacks down on the hardwood floor and scoop her up, spinning her around above my head. "How's it hangin', Little Monkey? You find your tail yet?"

Kira giggles as I bring her down to wrap tiny arms around my neck. "Aunt Cosima says I won't grow one until I get bigger."

"You know, that's exactly what Aunt Cosima said about my beard," I stage-whisper, sticking my tongue out at Rhesus as I pass by her sitting on the couch. I almost make fun of the terrible snowman sweater she has on, but I decide to hold off. "But don't worry. I think you'll get one soon."

Her adorable brown eyes go wide as hell. "Really?"

"Really, really." Fuck, her little pink cat sweater and matching pink shoes are cute as hell.

Limey leans against the wall and watches us with a smile on her face. I put Kira down and tell her not to peek at the presents by the door (which totally doesn't work because she's fucking eight and that's the first place she runs off to). Mrs. S, Tippler, and Frenchie come out of the kitchen holding wine glasses and laughing at some joke I didn't hear the beginning of. They're all wearing aprons over their clothes, which tells me dinner's not quite done yet.

Mrs. S sets down her wine on the coffee table when she notices me. "Is Kira the only one who gets a hello around here?"

"Hi, Mrs. S," I smile at her because fuck if she isn't a better mom to me than my own was.

She pulls me into a tight hug that I'm totally glad to return. "We'll talk about that face of yours later, eh?"

_Fuck._

When I pull away from her, there's a stern look in her eyes that lets me know I won't be getting out of this one. I just nod and shrug, shucking my coat off and tossing it on the rack next to us. I turn back to Frenchie, who's already draped over Rhesus on the couch.

"A woman who can cook?" I give her my best shit-eating grin. "Damn girl, you are Del-fine."

Everyone cracks the fuck up except Rhesus, who flips me off and possessively snuggles into her girlfriend's shoulder. Frenchie just pecks her temple and rubs her back.

"Oi, Cos!" Limey objects, quickly looking around for Kira. "None of that with my kid around, meathead."

Speaking of meatheads. "Where's Helena?" I throw out on my way to the fridge.

"Tony Sawicki, if you touch that cake, I will give you a thrashing you won't soon forget!" Mrs. S's sharp voice calls over the loud creaks the floorboards make under my weight.

I snicker to myself because fuck yeah I'm going to touch the cake. I can't not do it; it's an Orphan tradition. I always steal a swipe of the chocolate icing from the cake Mrs. S puts in the fridge for dessert. No lies, the icing Tippler makes is fucking bomb. Makes me see rainbows and unicorns and shit. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Mrs. S," I say, my finger already dragging along the cake's side. "I'm only getting a beer."

I come back into the living room with an open bottle of Red Racer dangling from my fist and a guilty smirk on my face. I sit down in the armchair next to Tippler's and make a show of wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of my mouth. Tip narrows her eyes and tries to thump me on the head, but I duck out from under her before she makes contact.

"Helena's on her way," Limey tells me while she moves to sit down on the arm of the sofa. "She said she had to stop somewhere first."

We all just shake our heads and huff out a breathy laugh. Typical Angel.

Kira returns from snooping around the gifts and pulls herself onto my lap by the leg of my jeans. "Hey, mummy?" she calls to Limey as her little fingers toy with the longer hair at the tip of my chin.

Limey, who's been gushing to Rhesus and Frenchie about some guy named Paul that she met in the supermarket earlier, stops talking and turns her attention to the little girl in my lap.

"Can you grow a beard like Uncle Tony, too?" I can't even help laughing out loud like an idiot. I fucking love this kid.

"Nah, Lil' Monkey," I tap her nose with my index finger. "Just me."

The 8 year old looks confused for a second. "How come?" her gaze moves between me and Limey to see who'll answer first.

I lean down right next to her ear like I'm about to tell her a secret. "'Cause I'm a tiger," I smile. "And tigers are way cooler."

Kira dissolves into playful laughs when I wink at her. The entire group follows as I tickle her sides and make roaring noises, burrowing my face into her stomach. When we've finally calmed down, I glance over at Mrs. S and I know the shit-storm is about to come.

"Alright, Tony," she pins me with her harsh Irish tone and a hard stare. "Out with it. What happened to that mug of yours?"

I blow out a sigh and take another pull from my beer. Kira seems worried when she feels my body tense up underneath her. She lays her little head on my shoulder to comfort me, and it lets me relax a little.

"Some dude on the bus today," I shrug, staring down at the wooden top of the coffee table against my knees and trying to make it seem like nothing. "Called me shemale, so I fucked his shit up. No biggie."

The room goes silent, which is really fucking weird considering that I just cussed in front of my niece. Ordinarily, everybody'd be up my ass in a heartbeat. I look up from the table and see that Limey and Rhesus look like they're going to kill somebody (which they totally fucking could; they'd be a scary duo if they decided to team up. I'd never want to be on their shit list), Mrs. S is just shaking her head like she can't even believe it, and Frenchie and Tippler seem to be waiting for me to blow the fuck up again.

"Chill, guys," I tell them. "I'm okay. It's not like I haven't heard worse."

Kira wiggles off my lap and turns to face me. Her hands come up to hold my cheeks gently between them so that she can look me square in the eye.

"People are only mean to you because you're a tiger," she whispers. "They think tigers are mean, so they're mean first. But they don't know you're a nice tiger, Uncle Tony. You're our tiger and we love you."

Fuck if this kid isn't making me cry. "Thanks, Lil' Monkey," I sniff as I crush her to my body and hug her like my life depends on it.

This is why I love Christmas. I get to be with the only real family I've ever had.

I pull back from her after a long time and I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my dark grey Henley. "Okay," I cough out roughly. "Sappy time's over. Time to feed the animal."

They all snort at the growl my stomach makes to punctuate my thought, and suddenly everything is back to normal.

"Alison, could you help me with the turkey?" Frenchie stands up and starts to make her way into the kitchen when the front door slams open. I almost bust a gut when I see who swaggers in.

"HO, HO, HO!" Angel screams in her thick accent. She's wearing a dingy looking Santa costume that looks like she stole it off the guy at the mall. Her blonde hair is sticking out from under the ratty hat and the beard she has across her face is a light yellow to match the rest of the once-white trim.

Kira claps her hands excitedly and runs over to our Orphan Santa Claus. Angel sweeps her up and holds the girl on her hip. "And what would you like for the Christmas, little angel?"

Kira pretends to ponder the question for a minute, and then grins when she answers.

"A big Christmas dinner with all my aunts and Mrs. S and my uncle."

Fuck if that isn't just fine with me.

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><p><strong>This ficlet is dedicated to rachelsmanning on Tumblr for posting the "beard" dialogue between Kira and Tony.<strong>

**Reviews would be a lovely gesture.**

**A. Tenmeadows, out.**


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